


Sarah and Michael

by Ellie226



Series: The Community [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Play, Discipline, F/F, F/M, Infantilism, M/M, Mommy Kink, Nursing, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 09:03:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie226/pseuds/Ellie226
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael is feeling a little ignored by Mommy, and that never ends well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sarah and Michael

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place during "Matt, Emily, & Ben", following Sarah's return from Matt's home.

Sarah’s POV

I was tired by the time I got home, and I really didn’t understand how Matt did it. Of course, I hadn’t understood it before either. Emily was a handful all by herself, and Ben was very needy.

I was glad to return home to my little boy, and I was relieved that we’d already handled bath time and pajamas.

“Where’s my Mikey?” I called, stepping through the front door.

He came running, sliding a little in his footy pajamas before he stopped before me, “‘m here!” he announced. “Are you all done wif Uncle Matt?”

Michael sounded a little disgruntled, and I nodded, wrapping an arm around him, “I’m all yours for the rest of the night, baby,” I promised. “What shall we do?”

“‘s’almost bed time now,” he complained.

“I know, bunny,” I apologized. “Mommy’s sorry.”

He pouted a little, and I suggested, “How about we watch some cartoons?”

That got a nod, and I settled us both on the couch and pulled up our Netflix account. 

“Hmmmm,” I narrated. “What would my baby want to watch?”

He patted my arm, begging, “Aristocats? Please?”

I felt guilty enough about leaving him to deal with another Matt Crisis that I figured the extra screen time wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“Okay,” I agreed, clicking on the requested film.

Before the film actually started, I kissed the top of his head, offering, “What snack would you like, sweet boy?”

“No snack, thank you,” he said.

“No snack?” I asked, surprised. “Not even cookies?”

He shook his head, snuggling down against me, “No thank you. I just want cuddles and a movie.”

That was a little unusual, but I shrugged it off. We’d had his favorite for dinner tonight, spaghetti, and he’d eaten a ton. 

Michael’s POV

I let my head slip down into Mommy’s lap, trying to be sneaky about holding my tummy. Mommy had said no snacks when she went over to Matt’s, but I wanted cookies, and I’d snuck just a few. On top of all the spaghetti and garlic bread and salad, I was feeling pretty ick.

Mommy gently rubbed my head as we watched the movie, my stomach hurting more and more. I didn’t want to tell her that I’d been disobedient. 

She would make my tummy feel better; she always did, even though she didn’t like when I disobeyed and ate something after she said not to. It was just hard sometimes to listen, especially when I really wanted something. 

The way she would make my tummy feel better though...I didn’t want to drink that gross stuff. Even if it made me feel better, it was still disgusting. And I’d end up getting a spanking for being disobedient. It wasn’t even fair because Emily had told me that Mommy had told Uncle Matt to give her ginger ale when her tummy hurt.

I resolved to just keep my mouth shut. It would stop after a while. I just needed to focus on the movie.

Sarah’s POV

Michael was stiff, not relaxing the way he typically did when we cuddled up, and I wasn’t sure what was going on.

“Michael,” I gently nudged. “Movie’s over. Let’s get your bottle and get you all tucked in.”

He nodded, standing up and starting toward the stairs. I knew I’d find him in our room, and I quickly heated up a bottle, wanting to join him. He looked tired.

I was surprised to find my baby in his crib, rather than in the big bed, and I let down the side, tugging on an arm, “Come on, bunny rabbit. Let’s cuddle while you have your bottle.”

“No thank you,” he said softly, hugging his stuffed elephant tightly and avoiding eye contact.

“Are you tired?” I asked, sitting down and feeling his forehead. “Getting sick?”

“No, ma’am,” he replied quickly sitting up with a nearly imperceptible wince. “Not sick.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. Why Michael married someone in the medical profession when he was so terrified of doctors was a mystery I’d never figure out. Even with me, he was hesitant to acknowledge not feeling well, and he knew exactly how we handled it. I was careful about not surprising him about anything, and I referred him out for most things. But when he was at home, he was under Mommy’s purview, and he knew I’d give him medicine and take his temperature, just like any other mommy.

“Sweetheart, let Mommy help you,” I prodded gently. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he insisted tearfully. “My-I’m just not hungry right now. I wanna go to sleep.”

“Michael,” I warned, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re always going over to Em’ly’s and Matt’s,” he said angrily.

I had been at Matt’s a lot lately, with everything that had been going on, and maybe Michael was just feeling a little neglected. Plus, the thing with David seemed to have everyone on edge.

“Let’s drink your bottle,” I encouraged. “We’ll cuddle together. Then it can be time to go sleep. Deal?”

I’d nudged the bottle closer as I spoke, and I was surprised when Michael’s hand shot out, knocking it away as he shouted, “NO!”

“Michael! That’s not nice,” I lectured, grabbing the bottle from the floor and setting it down on the bed. I landed a not at all harsh swat on the back of one of his legs.

“I don’t want it,” he said, looking very close to tears.

That was weird. Bottles were one of the first things I’d tried with Michael, at his request, when we started playing together. It remained my favorite part of our day together. We’d even discussed trying to have him nurse, although it hadn’t progressed that far.

“Mikey, what’s wrong?” I rubbed where I had just swatted.

He shook his head, “I just don’t want milk. Please, Mommy. I don’t want it. I’m too hot.”

I reluctantly nodded. If he didn’t want to, then I wasn’t going to force it. I offered, “Should we cuddle together then? I miss my Mikey Cuddles when we’re out all day.”

“Okay,” he agreed, voice small.

“Do you want a bottle?” I asked, “I could get some ice water. That might help cool you off.”

“Yes please.”

He was still very quiet, but it had been a long and stressful day, following several weeks of upset for everyone. 

“Why don’t you get into bed,” I murmured, kissing his forehead. “I’m going to get some water, and then I’ll be back up to cuddle.”

Michael’s POV

I listened to Mommy’s footsteps on our stairs before dragging myself up from my crib and over to the bed. That was where I usually slept anyway. I just liked having the crib in our room, so I could see Mommy on the nights when I didn’t sleep right next to her.

Curling myself up on the big bed, I rubbed at my belly. It really hurt. I didn’t feel pukey, but it hurt. I squirmed unhappily. Maybe the water would help.

When Mommy got back upstairs, she again had one of my bottles in her hand, this time filled with ice water. She climbed up beside me on the bed, pulling me against her so that she could cradle me.

“Hey, sweet boy,” she smiled down at me, sliding the nipple between my lips with practiced ease. “Who is my special baby?”

I smiled a little at that, sucking slowly at the water. It didn’t make my stomach feel better. If anything, the water made it hurt more. I felt swollen and overly full, and I wanted to throw up. I wished that I would.

After a minute, I pushed the bottle away, asking, “Can I be done now?”

“Michael-”

I cut her off, not wanting to give her a chance to go through the list of things that could be wrong. I’d never be able to lie to her if she guessed.

“‘m really tired, Mommy. And I had a good dinner. And lots of water. Can we just sleep now. Please?”

She looked worried, but she nodded, letting me go so that we could climb under the covers. Setting the bottle on the nightstand by my side of the bed, she said, “I’m putting this right here, bunny. You drink it if you need it.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

She got us both covered up, snuggling up against me and gently kissing me, “My sweet boy,” she hummed softly. “It was a big day, huh?”

I shrugged, “Yeah.”

“Frankie seems nice.”

Frankie didn’t seem particularly nice. She was bossy, when she wasn’t avoiding everyone, and I didn’t like her. That didn’t seem like the best thing to say though, so I made a noncommittal noise.

“Sleepy?” she kissed me again.

“Yes,” I whispered, allowing myself to gently rub my belly.

“Alright, bunny. Sweet dreams,” Mommy murmured with a hug, before she went quiet and fell asleep.

Sarah’s POV

I fell asleep easily, like always, although I didn’t sleep as soundly as I usually did. Instead, I woke up less than an hour later.

It took me a minute to figure out what had roused me, but then Michael let out a whimper, and I realized that was what it was.

“Michael? What’s wrong?” I asked, feeling instantly awake at the sound.

“Nothing,” he whispered, curling tight on himself.

“Uh huh,” I said skeptically, sitting up and turning on a lamp. “Nothing’s wrong. That’s why you’re crying.”

“Not crying. Just-”

“Michael, Mommy is not amused,” I hardened my voice, although my hand stroked his arm gently. “What’s wrong? Tell me now. I know you don’t feel good, but I can’t fix it unless you tell me what hurts.”

We’d been through this a million times, and I wasn’t going to waste valuable hours of sleep cajoling him when it would ultimately turn into me having to be a hardass to get the information anyway.

He mumbled something that I didn’t make out, and I said, “Pardon?”

“Tummy,” he managed to get out.

I nodded, getting out of bed and going to the bathroom. I returned a moment later with the first aid kit, instructing, “I need you on your back, bunny. I need to take a feel and make sure there’s nothing really wrong.”

“‘s’just a tummy ache,” he insisted frantically.

I shook my head, “You’ll forgive me if I don’t trust your judgment here, little fibber. Come on, on your back. I’m going to palpate your belly. You know how that works. I need to know that we’re not dealing with anything serious. Can you think of a reason your tummy might hurt?”

Michael reluctantly did as I asked, attempting to shrug as he said, “I dunno, Mommy. Just hurts.”

Feeling my way around, I watched his reactions. There wasn’t anything concerning, no weird rebound, but there had to be a reason for his stomach hurting. I didn’t want to be mean, but his odd behavior all night made me think he knew what had happened.

Frowning at him, I said, “Well, I’m not feeling anything, but if you don’t know what’s causing it, then I think we need to go to Urgent Care.”

Thankfully, he thought I meant it, and he began shaking his head frantically, “No, Mommy! No! I don’t need Urgent Care! It’s just a tummy ache!”

“A tummy ache could be a lot of things, bunny rabbit. We need to make sure it’s nothing serious. If you don’t know what caused it, then that means we need tests.”

“Nooooo!” he whined. “No tests!”

“Yeah, sweet boy. Sorry,” I apologized, pretending to look for shoes for both of us.

“I ate cookies after you said no,” he admitted.

Nodding at the admission, I replied, “That seems about right. Let’s fix you up so we can both get some sleep.”

“No! I don’t want you fixing it up!”

“Michael,” I reprimanded. “That’s not nice.”

“I don’t want icky medicine!” he insisted. “‘s’worse than a spanking.”

It was late, and I was tired. I didn’t want to have this argument. Fixing him with a look, I replied, “It’s about to be a spanking and icky medicine, Michael. I’m not happy. This isn’t the first discussion about not sneaking treats, and I’m not going to argue with you about handling it.”

“No no no!”

“I’m going to fix up your drink, and you’re going to take it like a good boy for me, Michael,” I warned, quickly pulling what I needed out of the first aid kit. “Or you’re going to get a spanking. Understood?”

“Not gonna!”

He was being a very bad baby tonight, and I frankly didn’t have the patience for it. Focused on the task at hand, I mixed the medicine into the sippy cup I kept in the first aid kit. Carrying it back out to him, I handed it over.

“Bottoms up, little boy, or you’re going bottoms up over my lap. End of discussion.”

Glaring at me, he pulled his hand back and threw the cup hard. It smashed into the wall, and the lid popped off. I saw a flash of worry across his face, but then he returned to scowling.

“Not gonna,” he repeated stubbornly.

Michael’s POV

That was pretty spectacular. Emily would have been impressed. I might sneak the occasional cookie, but Emily and Lucy had me beat in the defiance category hands down.

Of course, now that Mommy was looking at me like that, I was guessing I wasn’t going to so much like the consequences.

“Alright, young man,” she said grimly, sitting down on the bed beside me. “I guess you were hoping for a spanking.”

Mommy didn’t bother to try to get me over her knee, but I found myself face down on the bed, with my pajama bottoms unceremoniously wrestled down to my knee. With one forearm pinning me down, she began smacking. Hard.

“I don’t like having to punish you when you don’t feel well,” she lectured angrily. “And I don’t like disrupting our sleep to handle things like this. But if that’s what you need, then I can do it. You do not tell Mommy no. You do not hit things out of Mommy’s hands. You do not fib to Mommy or sneak cookies. Especially after you’re told no snacks. I’m very disappointed, Michael.”

She stopped talking, although the spanking definitely didn’t stop, and I was soon squirming and bawling unhappily.

“No Mommy! My tummy hurts! It’s not fair! You can’t spank me when I don’t feel good!”

“You gave yourself that tummyache. That’s what happens when you don’t listen,” she responded. “And you earned yourself this spanking, with your bad behavior. You need to trust Mommy. I know what I’m doing, young man, and disobeying me is very bad.”

I wailed at that, pounding one fist against the bed. I might be physically bigger, but Mommy is surprisingly strong, and her spankings always hurt.

Sarah’s POV

I steeled myself against Michael’s cries. I hated doing this. Spankings weren’t fun for either of us. There had been so many conversations about sneaking food though.

It wasn’t like I denied Michael food. We both liked to eat. We had cookies and ice cream in the house most of the time, but Michael knew the rules. They were treats. We had tons of fruit and vegetables all the time, which he could eat without asking permission. He wasn’t allowed to get himself a treat without asking because we’d had this problem before. Repeatedly.

He’d gorge himself when I wasn’t watching, and then we’d be dealing with a stomach ache. I was committed to this being the last time we had this problem. 

So I continued the spanking until Michael’s butt was a dark, shiny red. Distasteful mission accomplished, I moved my hand up to his lower back, patting softly a few times.

“Mommy is going to mix up your medicine again, and you’re going to take it this time, understood? No more fussing.”

He nodded, face buried in his pillow, and I patted once more before going to remix the drink for him. When I returned, I sat back down, instructing, “Sit up and take your medicine, baby.”

“Nooooo,” he moaned.

Michael had curled himself up onto his side after I left, clutching his stomach, and he looked utterly miserable.

“Michael baby, you need to listen,” I warned. “Are you going to sit up and take your medicine like a good boy, or should I see if I have something else to fix you up? I’m sure I can come up with something that won’t require your cooperation, but I’m guessing you wouldn’t like that.”

He was still crying, but he forced himself to sit up, letting out a louder whimper as he put weight on sore skin. Taking the cup in hand, he slowly drank the mixture down.

“Yuck,” he told me, handing it back.

I sympathetically offered his abandoned bottle of ice water so he could cleanse his palate while I tidied away the first aid kit. I rinsed out the cup and left it on the dresser, planning on washing it tomorrow. For now, I slid into bed behind my little boy, pulling at him until he lay against me.

“That spanking hurt,” he said, tone accusatory.

“Yup,” I agreed, rubbing at his tummy. “That’s what happens when you’re naughty.”

“I don’t like that icky medicine,” he complained. “It tastes gross. And you tell Uncle Matt to give Em soda, so it’s not even fair. You just make me take yucky medicine because-because-because I don’t know why, but it’s not fair.”

“I tell Uncle Matt to give Emily soda because Em’s tummy hurts when she’s stressed out or anxious. She doesn’t make herself sick eating too much. The last thing your tummy needs when you’ve been sneaking cookies is even more sugar in it,” I explained patiently.

He went quiet at that, and I rubbed his tummy for a few more minutes before stopping. That made him talk.

“No! Mommy keep doing that! It makes my belly feel better,” he begged.

Somebody was feeling neglected. The drink I’d mixed up would typically have fixed him by now, so I knew his stomach shouldn’t be hurting.

“What do you think about a Mommy and Michael day tomorrow?” I asked.

“Doing what?” Michael perked up a little.

I shrugged, “I don’t know, bunny. What sounds fun?”

“Can we make pancakes? And play with my dinos? And read stories?”

It sounded like he needed just a quiet day to reassure him, and that sounded just about perfect to me. Kissing his cheek, I murmured, “That sounds just about perfect to me.”


End file.
